Washington standard. [volume] (Olympia, Wash. Territory) 1860-1921, 1887-09-23
PRIVATIONS OF WAR.
HARDSHiPS OF A FAMILY IN THE
WOODS OF LOUISIANA.

WOODS OF LOUISIANA.
Home Life in . Deserted and Resource
less Country with Hardly = Man Left
in It-The Food Question q Serious
One. -
We started out upon the privations of
the war just after disastrous fire that
swept away all those ante bellum accumu-
lations that proved of such inestimable
value to all fortunate possessors, so we
did not even have the advantage of q
gradual decline, but just bumped down
suddenly, as it were, from the soft bed Of
ease to the hard floor of discomfort.
Upon the fall Of New Orleans we ''refu-
geed' about fifty miles above the city on
the jackson railroad, as it was then called
The country around US was very thinly
settled, the people generally poor, igno-
rant and primitive, and seemed as strange
to us as we 'city folks'' did to them. Oh,
those strange, dark days of "war times"
they linger yet in my memory like some
weird, vivid dream. Part of the time my
father was with us and part Of it in the
army, but his presence or absence made
little real difference in our condition. He
being delicate city bred man was almost
as helpless in that beating storm of hard
ships and deprivations rs my young, in
experienced mother and her brood of
young children. And as the years went
by and the war cloud settled down darker
and deeper all over the land, and times
grew harder and harder everywhere, If I
told all the hardships and struggles Of
those days I fear some of it would be
taken for Munchausen like exaggeration.
1t was O lonely, deserted, resourceless
country, with hardly man left in it, and
how some of those families of women and
children managed to live at all is mys-
terry to me. 1 think we came as near liv-
ing on nothing as mortals ever did,
though my mother and a young sister Of
hers who lived with us had their share of
that hard and brave struggle for which
our southern women are SO rightfully hon.
ored throughout the length and breadth Of
the land. Every article of beauty or
value that had escaped the fire was sold
or traded for the necessaries Of life. One
of my brothers, a little fellow about 12
years old, walked to Clinton, La, about
fifty miles, I believe, carrying in his arms
a handsome guitar Of my mothers, which
was sold to an officer of the garrison
there, who also bought from her pair of
huge silver mounted dueling pistols, heir
looms, which we children saw go with ex-
treme regret, as they were objects Of our
lifelong awe and admiration, though we
grew accustomed to seeing many other OBJ
jects of value depart in the same way.
In fact, we sold everything that any one
could be induced to buy. We had large
tin bath tub, round, and painted green,
and well to do farmer having expressed
desire to buy it for the tin, the little
boys were promptly dispatched with it,
and my aunt went along to make the bar
gain. The presumptive purchaser lived
two or three miles distant, and the boys
rolled the tub there like o hoop. Upon
closer inspection he decided that It would
not do for what he wanted, and SO they
had to roll it back again-a labor not &C.
cOmplished without considerable loss of
temper and green paint.
My mother and aunt grew very prof.
cient in making palmetto hats, and sold q
great many, my two little brothers carry
ing them to the nearest town, which was
ten miles distant. remember once when
q lot of hats were ready they rose early
that morning and found the ground COW
cred with snow-the only snow ever saw
in LOuisiana-but they insisted upon
going, and shouldering their bag Of hats
started out cheerfully on their twenty
mile walk, thinly clad and without shoes.
On their return that night they found
they had left their little dog in town, and
the next morning one of the boys went
back alone over the long, lonely road,
found the dog, and returned the same day.
Sheets, table cloths, window curtains
and bed spreads, all were transformed
into clothing, but there is an end to all
things, and the last resource remember
in that line was lot of osnaburg meal
bags, obtained, no doubt, by some strenu-
Gus exertions Of those same executive
abilities, which robed the entire crowd of
US in garments designed in the cutting
with view to our rapid growth and the
uncertainty of future supply. Shoes we
never thought Of; my mother and aunt
made cloth shoes for themselves, or by
dint Of much bargaining occasionally got
a pair made by some Of the country
women, rough, coarse, leather shoes, but
very valuable in wet or cold weather.
Our feet were turned out to grow in unre-
strained freedom, regardless of season or
weather. Only once did we get any
i'bought Shoes" and that was at the time
Of the evacuation Of Jackson, Miss. My
mother happened to be there at the time,
on business, and saw the streets strewn
with goods from the stores. We had
some family negroes hired out In jackson,
and they gave her some of the spoils that
had fallen to them-pins, needles, thread
and buttons, then objects of priceless
value, and also a reckless assortment of
shoes, with which, on her return, we were
proudly invested. A pair of boys brogans,
about three sizes too large, fell to my
share, and when my small feet were duly
installed in their roomy quarters I was
prouder of them than have ever been of
pair of shoes since.
But our hardest rubs were not In the
matter of clothes; we could, and certainly
did, do ON very little clothing In that
climate; it was the eating that brought
the tug Of war, and It would take
volume to relate our experiences in that
line. Flour, sugar and coffee we never
saw; meat we had only about half the
time, and thought ourselves fortunate
when we had enough meal There was
only one mill within reach of the COM
munity, managed solely by q little, bent,
shriveled old woman, who looked like q
veritable witch as she sat knitting on q
narrow platform over the water, made by
two or three boards loosely laid down.
Fully half the time the mill was out of
order or the water too low, or something
the matter, then there would not be q
piece Of bread in the community, and we
would have to live on boiled or parched
corn, and sometimes we did not have that;
sometimes we had nothing in the world
but sweet potatoes. Often we did not
have a grain of salt. We children would
eat anything and everything that came in
our way. ! remember once the boys
caught large fish of the kind known as
alligator gar, by NO means considered a
desirable variety, and when ma refused to
cook it we boiled it in the washpot with
about peck Of Irish potatoes and shallots
and had q nocturnal outdoor feast with
great jollity and subsequent general
cholera morbus. We about exterminated
the rabbits, and even tried dry land terra
pins, though I, for my part, did not like
the flavor. think we surely eat every
thing that was ever eaten before or since.
Virginia L. Bonsall in Atlanta Cousti-
tuition.
20